We love her sense of humor
And her own special ways
We love the things she brings us
So we can paint on trays.
It's every other Monday
We land there with a rush
Grab a design, and get to work.
We have no time to gush.
We bring our tables with us,
But not for a repast -
They're to pile our many things on
That's why we get out last
But those last precious moments
After the rest have flown
Are just what we've been waiting for
To talk to her alone
For we love her sense of humor
And her own special ways
And we hope she'll soon be back with us
For we love to paint on trays
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